


Taken – A Sequel

by delorita



Category: A-Team (2010), Taken (2008)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, M/M, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:06:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delorita/pseuds/delorita





	Taken – A Sequel

A/N: This was written before I saw Taken 2. Written at [](http://ateam-prompts.livejournal.com/profile)[**ateam_prompts**](http://ateam-prompts.livejournal.com/) for this: “I just found out they are doing a Taken sequel. And now I want a crossover where they meet Bryan Mills.Maybe think he's Hannibal and freak out when he doesn't recognize them.  
And Face and Hannibal are lovers and Face thinks Hannibal doesn't love him anymore because he acts like he doesn't know who he is.  


They are still in the army when this is happening.

BIG THANKS as always for my dear beta [](http://karenjd.livejournal.com/profile)[**karenjd**](http://karenjd.livejournal.com/)

++++++

What the fuck?

“Murdock, over there.” Face bends to his friend and gestures to the dance floor in the crowded gay bar. “Do you see what I see?”

“Ye…no, Facey no, wait!” Murdock tries to hold the Lieutenant back, grabbing his sleeve but Face is already up, forcefully striding towards the couple he has fixed his eyes on. A very tall man with brown hair, dancing slowly with a much smaller guy, and they’re just about to kiss when Face reaches them, gripping the taller one at the lapels of his leather jacket and pulling him around towards him, while shoving the other guy away,

“Just what the fuck are you thinking you’re doing here?” Face is beside himself with rage about to land a punch on the taller man’s jaw, “We think you got kidnapped but instead …” He can’t finish the sentence because his fist is caught in mid air and both his arms are twisted behind his back.

“What the fuck are _you_ thinking you are doing here, interrupting us like that?”

Face blinks, swallows and despite his rage he feels an abyss of abnormal dimensions open up beneath him, his whole life shattering into pieces at that very moment. He struggles against the strong grip, the silver blue eyes that normally hold so much love for him, look fierce and mean down at him. He shudders at the huge wave of betrayal that washes over him, and he suddenly feels like a little boy, he can’t help but stammer, “But…but John…”

“What?” The tall man grabs him even harder, his other hand around Face’s throat now. “What did you just call me?”

“Bry, security is paying attention already... ” The stranger tugs Hannibal’s arms away and steps between them just as Murdock arrives by their side, asking in a very sad voice, “Bossman, what the…?”

“Who the fuck are you two?” Hannibal interrupts him angrily.

++++

“So, either he’s been brain washed and escaped somehow or…” Murdock muses when they meet up with BA in the van again, rubbing through his hair nervously.

“Or what?” Face almost can’t get the words out. He’s trembling all over, feeling hot and cold all at once. The image of his Hannibal’s large hands caressing that dude’s face so gently painfully ingrained in his mind forever.

Murdock had pulled him away from the dance floor because Hannibal had really acted like he absolutely didn’t know them. They needed to regroup and make a plan.

They’d been following a lead. It was sketchy at best, but it was all they’d had. Face had never expected to even find Hannibal in the gay club, let alone see him with his hands all over another man...

“I’m goin’ in,” BA growls, “Need ta see for myself.”

“Don… don’t do anything big guy, you hear me? Jus…just watch an’ then tell us what ya think, okay?” Murdock turns his cap around and around, hands shaking.

“Ain’t stupid, fool.” And with that he slams the van door shut and is out of their sight.

“Fuck, HM… fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Face slams his fist into the back of the driver’s seat, “I thought… I thought he and I… Shit.” Face curls in on himself and falls completely silent, staring into nothingness.

“There must be something wrong, Facey,” the pilot gently rubs Face’s arm. “I mean, why would he have dyed hair? Maybe those kidnappers had him play this dude Bry for some reason. Who knows who the other guy was, maybe he had to lure him somewhere for them or somethin’ like that? And when we came onto the scene he acted like he didn’t know us.”

Face sighs and tries to consider his best friend’s words, but the way Hannibal had looked at him after blocking his attack, almost with hatred and so, so angry…They were face to face, no one would have seen the look they were exchanging. The Boss could have shown him with just one glance that he was glad to see them. They’d done things like that so often in the past.

But this?

This was just plain scary.

The van’s driver’s door opens forcefully and a bemused looking BA squeezes himself behind the wheel. “It’s him. Damn.”

“What did he do?” Murdock asks anxiously.

“Nothin’,” BA grumbles, rubbing his Mohawk thoughtfully.

“Come on big guy, they must have done somethin’.”

Face almost wants to cover his ears so he doesn’t have to hear the answer to the pilot’s question.

“Danced,” BA grounds out, not telling that they were kissing through the whole song as well, hands on each others asses.

“No suspicious other guys around, nothing?” Murdock just can’t get his head around this. He’s just as shocked as Face but tries to compensate through talking.

“There they are, follow them, BA!” Face’s voice almost fails him when he sees the two men come out of the bar, arms around each other, waving for a cab.

While BA pulls into traffic two cars behind the taxi, Face tries to see any other cars that follow it or any out of the ordinary looking people but there are none, as far as he can see in the dark. Murdock shakes his head... there isn’t anything suspicious on the other side of the street either.

Face is torn between impossible rage about being lied to, violation of utter trust and such deep sadness of losing his only love, he can’t think straight. He doesn’t realize that BA stops after just a short drive.

Suddenly both the driver’s and the passenger’s door get ripped open and both Murdock and BA stare into the barrel of a gun.

Hannibal’s voice is icy when he asks with the voice of an assassin, “What do you want, why were you following us?”

“We followed you because you actin’ like a jackass, Bossman,” BA instantly answers.

Murdock is pulled out of the van by the guy whom they’d never seen before and is shoved against the wall, gun to his head. He considers struggling, but then decides against the idea and just waits it out. Nerves raw but determined, ears straining to hear what the Colonel would say to BA’s accusation.

But there’s silence for a moment, then, “What are you talking about?” Hannibal frowns, slightly lowering his gun.

BA doesn’t know what to say to that and tries to catch Face’s eye in the rear mirror. But Face isn’t there anymore.

He’s suddenly standing behind Hannibal and says in a deadly cold voice, “We talk about betrayal.” He uses the moment of surprise and manages to turn the Colonel around in a split second and unarms him, the gun flying out of his hand and sliding under the van. He grabs the leather jacket again while BA gets hold of the taller man’s wrists behind his back.

Murdock attacks when the stranger turns to see what’s happening on the other side of the car, and kicks him in the balls, wrenching the gun from him as well. They wrestle on the sidewalk while Face keeps grinding out, “And not only betrayal of a lover, no...” He can barely keep it together to not lash out, “We talk about betrayal of his friends, his team…his fa…”

“Wait a second!” Hannibal’s voice thunders across the Lieutenant’s. “I do not know you guys. How can I betray you?”

“You what?” And that’s when Face’s fist lands straight on Hannibal’s already crooked nose. The taller man tries to kick his feet from under him, but Face dances out of his reach, and BA keeps a very tight grip on his arms.

Hannibal’s new friend is behind Face within seconds to prevent him from hurting his man again. He shoves him away, but of course Face has the upper hand against the smaller man. Or at least he thinks he has. The dark haired guy uses a trick Face has never seen before, and he lands on his ass on the pavement, now even more enraged. The Lieutenant starts a hand to hand fight, and is very surprised about the others’ skills thinking he must have been trained by… Of course, Hannibal probably has a double life! Face’s imagination goes into overdrive while he dodges the others’ kicks and hits, trying to get one of his own in.

_Hannibal must have... He must have…_

“Will you stop that!” The loud voice thunders again and Face is pulled off the guy from behind, very strong arms holding him firm. His opponent is pulled away too by Murdock, and BA holds something in front of Face’s nose. A passport. Hannibal’s picture on it with brown hair and the name reads: Bryan Mills.

Face struggles against the vice like grip, laughing sarcastically, “And what does that prove at all? I’ve made tons of these…”

“If you made so many, then you can see that this one isn’t a fake,” the stranger with Hannibal’s face snaps, out of breath, and Face has to admit that he’s right. He looks for the proof marks and frowns. That really isn’t a fake.

“Let’s make a deal.”

Face cringes at the oh-so-familiar voice so close to his ear, the wonderful strong grip holding him tight against that hard chest. He shivers. How can life turn upside down so fast?

Murdock snorts, not letting the other guy go either.

“We prove that I’m not who you think I am, and you three leave us alone,” the tall man says and lets go of Face who instantly whirls around again, but gets blocked by two strong hands on his forearms, silver eyes boring into his.

He has to look away and wrestles out of the hold, stepping three steps back, “How you gonna prove that? I won’t believe you anyway.”

It hurts so much. How can Hannibal do this to him?

“I assume the guy you got me mixed up with got lost somehow?”

“Got lost?” Murdock snorts again. “Colonel Hannibal Smith never gets lost,” he mutters under his breath, frustration clear in his voice now.

“The Colonel?” The guy who’s still Murdock’s captive looks like something is dawning on him. “Colonel John ‘Hannibal’ Smith, Army Ranger?”

“Sam, what you talking about?” the guy who says he isn’t Hannibal asks bewildered.

“I’ll explain, but please can we go upstairs? We’ve got beer.” He turns to Murdock who had loosened his grip when Hannibal’s real name was mentioned.

“How can we trust you, sucker?” BA growls.

“Let’s just say I know we’re all working for the government.” He lightly punches BA’s clearly visible Ranger tattoo and shows his CIA batch to Face for proof that it isn’t faked either.

Face nods to his two team mates, remembering that he’s actually the XO in this unit and not some lost little boy.

“I still don’t believe you. This is the craziest prank you have ever played on us, Boss,” he mutters under his breath but follows the others reluctantly into the elevator.

+++

“So you’re CIA,” Murdock states conversationally when they’re sitting in a very comfortable living room after they’ve exchanged names.

“Yeah, undercover, mostly out of the country.” Sam hands each of them a beer and they drink in silence for a few moments.

“So how’d your Commander disappear?”

‘You should know best,’ Face thinks almost hatefully and rubs his hands across his face. His beer is still untouched on the table. He really has to get a grip.

“Strip,” he suddenly orders.

Four pairs of eyes look shocked and questioningly at him.

“Fuck, I mean the shirt, take it off, Bo…Bryan.” The unfamiliar name doesn’t want to roll of his tongue.

The tall man exchanges a glance with his lover. Sam only grins and says, “Go ahead. Might be a brilliant idea.”

So Bryan does.

Face swallows and balls his hands into fists. That body is so tempting to touch. All muscular and strong and even though that man lied to him… He mentally shakes away those thoughts and inspects the marred skin as close up as he dares. He also sees how Murdock does the same from afar. Face feels the amused glance from the silver blue eyes rest on him and he walks once around the tall man, feeling really embarrassed and hating himself.

“Those are some very impressive scars you got there… Bryan,” he sighs and finally grabs his beer, letting himself fall into the arm chair. He empties the can in one go then tosses it into the waste basket by the kitchen space. He isn’t sure if he’s relieved or even more worried now.

“Fuck.”

“What? So now you’re pissed that I’m not your Colonel?” Bryan asks curiously.

“My Colonel?” Face jumps instantly at the wording, frowning.

Bryan pulls his shirt on again and let’s himself fall beside Sam on the sofa, putting his arm around the smaller man and pulling him close. “Let’s just say we know the feeling? And besides you already admitted it earlier.”

Of course. Face sighs and nods, still restless and grumpy. He needs this man. Well, not _this_ man, but his man. It’s been three days now since he disappeared and who knows what happened with Hannibal in the meantime. “Well, since you obviously aren’t him we better get going and continue our search and try to find the real Colonel Smith.”

“We could help,” Sam says.

“Why would you help strangers to find their Colonel?” Murdock stands as well, putting his cap on.

“Because I want to get to know the guy who looks like me,” Bryan mutters.

“Because I’d be honoured to help find the legendary Colonel Smith? Because we’re good at finding people and have some time on our hands at the moment?” Sam adds.

“We good at finding people, too,” BA grumbles. “Normally.”

“Come on sit down again... Face, Murdock,” Sam carefully tries out their names and opens up his laptop, “Where and when did you see Hannibal last?”

“Aw, that doesn’t make any sense. We have been everywhere and done everything to find him already,” BA grumbles.

“I bet you haven’t been here,” Sam points at the screen.

Paris.

The three A-Team members frown.

“Why would he be in Paris?” Face snaps irritably.

“Because I’ve made myself some really bad enemies there…and since you mixed us up…” Bryan bends over Sam’s shoulder, pointing at a certain link on screen.

“Holy shit.” Face rubs his hands across his tired eyes. It couldn’t get any worse. A Twelve hour flight across the ocean and on top of that not so much as a hint to where to start searching there.

Time is ticking way too fast. His heart aches and he makes a decision. They need all the help they can get, and these guys are soldiers after all as well. He just needs to trust them, which isn’t in his nature at all.

But Murdock is explaining things already. His gut instinct must have told him that those two are okay. So when his best friend trusts them, Face can work with that.

“Three days ago we had that mission with the Bulgarian and Armenian weapons dealer ring. That’s when he disappeared,” Murdock thought loudly. “We had them rounded up and waited for the Boss, but he never came back from his position.”

“The comm. line went dead all of a sudden. I was where he should have been in about thirty seconds but he was gone without a trace. Fuck,” Face remembers, pacing, both hands in his hair.

“And you’re sure he was taken?” Bryan asks. All three members of the A-Team glare at him. Hannibal wouldn’t have just left them, disappeared without a word... Especially on a mission. Bryan apologises and nods. Face blows out a hard breath, frowning as he tries to remember-

“The assholes we’d captured had tattoos…moon and star.”

“Well of course!” Bryan says loudly, pointing at another link, pressing his nose unintentionally into Sam’s curls while doing so.

Face can’t stand their closeness. He feels absolutely jealous even though he knows now that this guy isn’t Hannibal but still, so very, very familiar. His cock twitches in his pants by just looking at the tall agent. He huffs a low litany of “fuck” under his breath and has difficulty focusing.

“I get to fly a Boeing or something?” Murdock asks excitedly and gets Face’s thoughts back on track.

Face instinctively looks at BA, but he only stares fiercely ahead of him and punches his fist into his palm of his other hand. He says nothing.

Murdock throws Face a glance, indicating he’s surprised about the silent BA as well. Either BA doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the strangers, or he’s willing to take on such a long flight to find his Colonel without any protest at all.

“How do you know about Hannibal anyway?” Face asks fiercely at the same time as Bryan looks suspiciously at Murdock with a frown and says, “Fly a Boeing?”

“In short, Face, Bry. Look here.” Sam has an article open now, his source from where he knows about Hannibal and the A-Team. Tiny pictures with it. “I’m interested in special teams, in case we may need help now and then. So a while ago I searched for “outstanding success” ... a little breaking into the army data base, sorry about that.”

Bryan chuckles fondly at that and it sends sparks down Face’s spine, but the Lieutenant tries his best to block that out.

“So here,” Sam reads and Face recognises their photographs, “Colonel “Hannibal” Smith’s Alpha-Team has an extraordinary pilot at its disposal who’s able to fly anything…” Bryan looks at Murdock who grins at him wickedly.

“Okay then, let’s focus on the important stuff,” Face can’t help but order, “Can you get us a plane faster than I can?” He can’t address Sam, the man makes him crazy.

“Depends on how fast you are,” Sam challenges him and they stare at each other for a few seconds.

“Boys!” Bryan warns, so much like Hannibal Face wants to jump him right there.

He’s finding it hard not to just run out the door and drive straight to the airport.

“Excuse us a second,” he says and gives Murdock and BA a sign to follow him into the hallway.

“So we go with this? Do you think that might be the right track?” Face stares at them determinedly.

“Si, I’d say so, Faceman. We’ve followed every trace we could think of so far and found nothing. And since we mistook Bryan for our Bossman…”

“Those suckers could’a took Hannibal for Bryan. Fool’s right this time,” BA adds.

“You don’t think they’re fucking with our minds?”

“You still think that’s the Bossman?” Murdock frowns. “You saw his scars…”  
“I can’t see how two different people totally look alike and behave alike.”

“Unless they’re identical twins.”

“Ah come on Murdock, Hannibal never mentioned a brother.” Face feels completely trapped. But when he looks at his watch he says, “Doesn’t matter, we have to follow every hint we can get, and if it’s to fucking Europe, then so be it.”

Once inside the other room, he holds out his hand to Bryan and then Sam, “We’re very grateful for your help, even though we still don’t know how we deserve it. I really hope it’s not some fucking mind game.” He searches for something in Bryan’s eyes but it’s not there. But what Face can see is actual honesty, so he hopes he can trust his own gut feeling and work with this man.

Sam’s grip is warm and very firm. Face forces himself to look Bryan’s lover in the eye as well. There’s the same honesty there in the deep dark eyes and a determination he doesn’t expect. “I don’t need to scam the plane this time,” Face says, “We’re authorized to use anything that helps us to get Hannibal back. So we could even take a C-130 if it’s the only plane available right now.”

“C-130? That’d be very fine with me.”

“Okay then, let’s go to Paris,” Bryan says and all five bump fists. There seems to be a little bond between them already. It’s like a miracle.

But with every sentence the tall man says, Face thinks he’s going crazy. The man seems to be Hannibal but then he isn’t. He doesn’t let his confusion show. Murdock’s arm around his shoulder feels good anyway, though.

How long until this damn nightmare ends?

+++

It took them another three hours until they were finally in the air. Earlier, BA swallowed some strong sleeping pills of his own free will and is now dozing peacefully, and Face and Murdock are sitting silently in the cockpit, staring at the beautiful clouds ahead.

“You wanna take a nap, Facey?” Murdock asks concerned.

“Na, I’m not tired. I wish we were there already.”

“I’m doin’ my best.”

“I know buddy, I know.” Face falls silent and stares into nothingness, Murdock’s low singing somehow soothing his nerves.

After half an hour he has to get up for a bit and stretch his long legs. That’s when he becomes a witness of something he’d rather not have seen, but he just can’t tear his gaze away.

Bryan and Sam sit on two of the few passenger seats and kiss leisurely, world around them seems forgotten.

Face has full view of everything. He’s not sure if he should turn away or stay. The sight is both arousing and painful.

Their hands roam across each other’s bodies. Bryan bends over Sam who reclines lazily in his seat, legs stretched out in front of him. The tall man has his large hands buried in Sam’s locks.

Face sighs, he _knows_ this position. He always gives himself to Hannibal like this. His whole body relaxed except his growing dick. Hannibal also has a fetish with his hair, that’s why he’s allowed to keep it not as short as it should be.

Bryan buries his nose into Sam’s curls and one of his hands slides ever so slowly down the whole front of the smaller man’s body, resting on his crotch. Sam bucks up into the delicious touch. One of his own hands gripping Bryan’s forearm tight, the other searches for his lover’s jeans’ button.

Face rubs his hand down his front. He’s hard, too. He bites his bottom lip and prays that they won’t become aware of him. ‘John, fuck, where are you?’ he thinks and his right hand disappears into his briefs, gripping very tight. He loves it when the Colonel fists him hard.

Bryan slides Sam’s pants down just beneath his balls, pushes up his shirt. They can’t afford stained clothes. Sam pulls the other man’s mouth down on his hard, controlling the kiss while Bryan loops his fingers tight around Sam’s hard shaft.

Face can barely suppress a groan. It looks like Bryan even prefers the same things in his gay lovemaking as John does. Face feels the slick of his precome moisten his fingers and he slides the pad of his thumb across his cock head just as Bryan does the same to Sam. Bryan breaks the kiss and moves down his lover’s body, licking his throat and Adam’s apple, across his bare chest, until his teeth nip at one hard nub. Face moans lowly and tweaks his own nipple.

Sam tips his head back, eyes closed, lost in sensation, his lover completely spoiling him as best as he can in this situation. And when he comes, Bryan gathers the whole load into his big hand, then licks it clean like a cat.

Face feels his balls tighten at the incredible sight.

Then Sam is on his knees, rips the zipper of Bryan’s jeans open and takes the whole impressive length into his mouth, almost all in one go. Bryan groans loud and long and that fortunately covers Face’s own lustful sound. God, what would he give to have his man’s dick in his mouth right now, lick that thick, pulsing vein, feel all that taut, super smooth skin, circle his tongue around that ridge, slide it into the slit that is leaking bittersweet juice already.

FUCK!

Face spills everything in both his hands, turning away and trying to somehow hide behind another seat. Sure the two will open their eyes in the near future.

What kind of idiot is he?

Certainly not a soldier.

Hannibal would kick his ass for just watching or rather for letting himself be distracted like that.

But this is just plain weird, having a man around that looks and talks like your missing lover. He zips his pants up again, cleans his hands on an old rag he’d found beneath a seat and is so frustrated with himself that he doesn’t notice two heads peer over the top of his so called hiding place.

“You wanna talk about him, Face?” Bryan’s deep voice rumbles above him.

“We had to search three weeks for Bry two years ago…” Sam adds.

Face startles just a little since he was fairly sure that they’d noticed him much earlier. He would have. He just sighs, not able to look at them anyway. “I just hope he isn’t…” He gestures vaguely then he gets up to wash his hands in the tiny bathroom. His stomach is still in heavy knots.

+++++++++

Hannibal doesn’t remember ever having hurt this much. Not even when he was shot. His head, his whole body, from the inside and out. All his nerve endings seem to be on fire. His stomach is clenching and his lungs hurt with every breath he tries to draw. He can’t open his eyes.

He at least tries to listen intently but there is no sound, the only sound he still hears ringing in his head is Face’s last question in his ear piece, “Boss?” and then more urgently, “John?!” He would have loved to answer but he couldn’t. Something was clouding his whole brain all at once and he wasn’t able to move or to speak, and then all went dark.

Other voices float into his half wakefulness. His pounding head isn’t very helpful when he tries to understand what they are saying, but after a while he’s fairly sure that’s not English. He forces himself to concentrate and not to groan with the effort.

It’s something like Russian, but not really. And he keeps hearing something that sounds like windmills or Miller. He doesn’t care though.

Where is he? Where are the others? Are they okay?

What is Face going to do if he doesn’t come back to him…?

++++

After the strange encounter, Face pulls himself together and pushes his feelings aside, kicking himself in the ass mentally and climbing back into the cockpit to keep Murdock company, suddenly very aware that they all haven’t slept for a while.

But the pilot is so excited about the fact that the C-130 is like butter in his hands and actually a big, wonderful toy for him, that he doesn’t feel any tiredness. And for a change, there is no one hunting them through the air.

So they land earlier then expected.

And the next few hours are only a blur.

Bryan had told them on the flight what happened to his daughter in Paris, and how he’d found her and killed almost all of her kidnappers, and the fat asshole that stood as buyer behind that girls trafficking ring. So it was probably some murderous relative wanting revenge and he found out that Bryan is an American. And instead of tracking down Bryan, they somehow must have gotten information about Hannibal and lured him into their trap instead.

All of the men were still very puzzled about the fact that the two men must really look identical to have been mistaken for one another, but to find out why had to wait, first they had to find the Colonel. Since everyone of the party had brilliant detecting skills and Bryan was as much a leader as his double and was using his undercover connections he still had in the city, they made fast progress and soon stood in front of a building in an outer area of Paris. It was more like a ruin than a house. One single room was dimly lit.

Meanwhile, it had grown dark yet again.

Face’s nerves are at bursting point. The lack of sleep doesn’t bother him or any of the others. Face has overtaken command without even realizing it, Bryan stepping back willingly.

The house was guarded by two men only. Murdock and Sam got easily rid of them. Face picked the lock while they were at it, suspicious of the lack of more guards. The dark mood that had overwhelmed him for the last three days, since the Colonel was taken, got even darker. When no one was out here, they must be all inside, torturing Hannibal…

Face shakes his head determinedly, commanding the disturbing thoughts behind the wall he’s build in his mind for situations like this.

Once he’s opened the door without any sound, he carefully checks the hallway that’s stretching to both sides. It’s completely silent and empty. He waves for Bryan and Sam to go to the left, while he instructs BA to stay guard at the entry. He indicates towards Murdock that they move together. He has a feeling that his man is probably laying drugged and tied in one of the unlit rooms or in the basement.

They open each of the doors carefully and slowly on their side of the hallway, seeing out of the corner of their eyes that Bryan and Sam do their job in the same way. Precise and without making any sound. There is nothing so far. Bryan signals to Face that even the lit room is empty. He nods and gives Bryan the thumbs up to go upstairs while he signals towards Murdock that they’ll take their way down.

They avoid turning on any light and once they’re down one stair case and hesitantly round a corner, a glimmer and muffled sounds from afar are finally proof that someone is in here. Face’s heart rate instantly increases especially since the sounds they hear are heavy thuds, as though someone is getting beaten hard.

Murdock and he exchange a quick glance, no words needed. They move towards the noises, step by step, glancing backwards now and then so no one might sneak up behind them.

Suddenly there’s impatient shouting and the sounds of lots of water being dumped over someone. As they get closer they’re able to discern between five different voices, speaking in Albanian. Or rather yelling at each other.

Face and Murdock don’t need words to understand one another. Both of them understood enough of that language to get the meaning of the terrible sentences. There was someone else with them in the room and that person had been tortured since the moment he was captured and his name must be Mills.

Yeah, right.

Face swears silently. Murdock can read the “fuck” from his lips easily. They have to get closer to the door and somehow get it open to see where Hannibal’s position is and in what condition he is in. And if there were really five men with him in there or even more. Five they could handle, if there weren’t too many weapons involved.

Face knows their time is up when suddenly a very angry voice screams, in very accented English, “You idiot! Speak! OR I KILL YOU! NOW!”

And Face bursts through the door, crashing it off its hinges with one mighty kick. One glance and he sees Hannibal hanging from the ceiling, bound by his bare feet, head down. He’s naked and all over his body are bloody whip marks. His eyes are open though and he’s blinking slowly, trickles of blood running out of his mouth behind a gag.

“Motherfuckers!” Face yells and shoots two in an instant, before they could scramble to their guns. Murdock hits the third but the fourth had his gun in his hand already and shoots at them, but he’s got too bad aim and hits the wall.

“Stop or I will kill him,” a deadly voice warns them and they lower their weapons immediately, seeing the fifth asshole holding a knife against Hannibal’s throat.

“Fuck,” Face’s curses under his breath. Why hadn’t they been faster?

But a loud crack fills the small room and the Albanian instantly falls to the floor.

BA had shot him from outside, sliding now into the cellar through the window.

“Thanks, Bosco,” Face whispers under his breath while holding Hannibal’s weight up. Murdock had climbed the nearby ladder to cut the Colonel loose.

“Fuck, baby, what have they done too you?” Face can’t help but murmur. Between him and BA, who’s holding their leader’s legs, they lay him down on the floor where Murdock had thrown his jacket and usual plaid shirt as a blanket. The Colonel’s eyes slide shut instantly. Face carefully removes the gag, caressing Hannibal’s face gently looking for gashes beneath all the blood. Together they swiftly examine the wounds on his whole body, Face becoming more and more relieved when he doesn’t find any that are too serious like a bullet wound or badly broken limbs or ribs.

That’s when Bryan and Sam enter the room. “We had…” Sam starts but shuts his mouth as his eyes fall on the tall figure on the floor. “I’ll get the car.” He disappears from the room.

Bryan stands hypnotised, staring at the motionless body on the floor, while Hannibal’s three team mates carefully put some clothes on him so he won’t freeze to death.

Even with the black eye and the dirt and blood on the raged face, Bryan can see the similarities. Just as tall as him, around the same age, same build. A soldier.

He gets a grip within seconds, “I know a place where we can hide in case more of these motherfuckers show up around here.” He was about to say more but of course they knew that they couldn’t move the Colonel far, he didn’t need to tell them that. They were experienced enough. He saw that now. They’d really worked as a team to get their leader back. Just as his boys did way back.

He and Sam had encountered more assholes beneath the roof, playing cards or sleeping. Luckily there had been no delirious or dead girls around as the first time he had found such a drug house.

“I also know a private doctor…” he says in a steady voice, despite the knot he was feeling in his throat at the memory.

“I don’t think he needs a doctor,” Face hisses, knowing Hannibal’s aversion of hospitals and doctors, as he lifts the heavy man up together with BA, “But, fuck, I think he’s been drugged up completely.”

The car engine hums low beside the cellar window and while Murdock hands all the guns through it to Sam, climbing up then too, Bryan escorts Face and BA through the building with their human treasure, just in case some more Albanians might show up.

++++++

Face sits, washcloth in hand, on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning every patch of Hannibal’s skin. He’d dismissed Murdock who was eager to help. He wanted to be alone with his lover, he wanted to kiss him awake, to murmur words of tender nonsense to him just the way Hannibal always had in the past when Face was injured.

The secret place Bryan had led them to is big enough for all of them to stay in without pulling at each others nerves. It’s a big old house in a different neighbourhood, but freshly renovated, light and modern.

Face had always loved staying in Paris, studying French, but surely not in these circumstances.

“John, come on baby, wake for me.” He carefully lets his fingers slide through the sticky silver hair, searching for bumps or cuts he may have overlooked the first time, luckily there aren’t any.

But the whip marks hurt by only looking at them. Murdock and he had been able to talk the saleswoman in a drug store to give them a certain special salve and strong pain meds, so he now is able to tend to his lover’s wounds. This is nothing new to him but he’d really rather avoid it.

“I love you, Boss,” Face whispers close to Hannibal’s parched lips and brushes his softly against the other man’s mouth. Nothing happens but at least Face can feel his lover breathing.

“I…” he swallows and tries again, lingering a bit longer, sliding the tip of his tongue a little into Hannibal’s mouth, curling against the other one.

There’s a groan and the injured body is finally stirring. Face stops the loving gesture and looks expectantly at his leader’s features. “Come back to me John, we’ve found you.” Another slow caress of lips, fingertips on a forehead that’s surprisingly not hot from fever.

Hannibal’s lashes finally flutter open.

“Hey,” Face murmurs, index finger caressing the other man’s temple.

“Hi,” Hannibal croaks in response and instantly wants to sit up.

“Easy, easy, Boss,” Face strokes his arm and he instantly falls back down into the cushions.

“My head…” Hannibal groans and then looks down at himself, hissing as he tries to touch some of the marks at his torso, “What the fuck?” He looks questioningly at Face and then slowly around the room. “Where,” he clears his throat, “where the hell are we?”

“Shhh take it easy,” Face hands him a glass of water. “We’re in Paris.”

“P…” Hannibal frowns and grabs at is black eye where Face had laid another washcloth.

“Temp, you…” a hand comes up from under the cover and strokes his thigh, “…look terrible.”

Face realizes in that moment that he hadn’t even showered but had sat there, coaxing Hannibal to wake up, for who knows how many hours, almost forgotten when he’d slept for the last time.

“It’s nothing Boss, I just need a shower.” He takes Hannibal’s hand and kisses his fingers.

“You…why…?” Hannibal screws his eyes shut in pain but adds, “why Paris?” then he waves vaguely at his body and grabs Face’s hand blindly, “Why this?”

Face sighs. But of course Hannibal would have had a black out after those beatings, hanging head down from the ceiling for god knows how long.

“I’ll tell you, but don’t you wanna take the pills for the pain first?” Face holds them out to him. Hannibal looks up and even smiles a little, which makes Face’s heart flutter, and he smiles back, trying hard to hold back the tears of relief.

Hannibal takes the pills, swallows, grimaces and then frowns again, thinking aloud, “Did…did I get drugged?” He pulls Face closer to him with one hand and tries to brush the tears off his cheek that had escaped.

“Drugged and kidnapped within thirty seconds. We couldn’t do a thing.”

“Come here,” Hannibal pats beside him on the bed weakly, “you look… like your eyes…” he sips a bit of water to get rid of the croaky voice, “… might fall shut any minute.”

Face actually can’t believe his luck at how fast Hannibal seems to recover. His injuries might be not as bad as they’d thought. “I need a shower first, Boss.” Now that he sees that the Colonel is not delirious or feverish, he suddenly feels all sticky and stinky and…

“I need more kissing,” Hannibal murmurs and holds Face’s hand, trying to pull slightly, “Please?” The teasing has disappeared in that single word and Face suddenly sees stark fear in Hannibal’s eyes. Forgotten is the shower. He scrambles onto the empty side of the bed, kissing Hannibal’s bare shoulder. “What happened, Boss?”

“I can’t… Just…stay.”

“Okay,” Face whispers, heart thudding again like crazy. He bends, leans on his elbows, captures Hannibal’s lost glance with his and states firmly, “I love you, John Smith, and if we wouldn’t have found you or would have been too late…”

Hannibal lifts his head a little, seals the beautiful mouth off with his index finger, “I was convinced you’d find me. You always do, kid.”

Face wants to explain that there were others involved in that this time, but the Colonel’s lashes close like they have weights on them and Face feels the same effect on his. He couldn’t escape to the shower anyway because a not so weak arm was holding him close to the tall, injured body. He lays his head carefully against Hannibal’s chest, finding a spot that doesn’t have any cuts and tries to let sleep claim him, too.

++++

A knock at the door somehow registers in his brain, or is it the sunbeam that tickles his nose that awakens him?

Face opens his eyes and Murdock looks straight back at him, a plate with scrambled eggs and a big coffee mug on a tray.

‘How’s he doing?’ the pilot mouths. Face looks at his lover fondly, the regular breathing a sign for his undisturbed sleep. He gives Murdock a thumb up and a smile, climbs off the bed and takes his breakfast. “Thanks buddy. I’ll tell you when he’s up,” he whispers, takes a few gulps of his coffee, puts the tray down and heads for the bathroom.

+++

“I can’t believe how much he looks like you.” Sam sits in front of his laptop and compares photos of Hannibal and his lover, “And you don’t remember having a brother, a… twin?”

“No, never. None.” Bryan stands behind Sam’s chair, his hands on his shoulders, his chin leaning onto Sam’s head, his favourite position when they’re trying to work something out. He admires the other man’s fast fingers, how they dance securely across the keyboard. Bryan types too, but not as fast. Plus those fingers are able to do so many other things so very skilfully…

“Bry…” Sam turns and looks up, smiling wickedly, “don’t stare at my fingers when I type, you make me crazy.”

“Only then?” Bryan’s deep sensual voice makes its way through Sam’s body, letting the concentration he had put into searching for hints of a connection between the two soldiers disappear.

“What about we use that third bedroom for a short break, honey?” Bryan bends and catches Sam’s mouth without waiting for an answer and they kiss hungrily for a few moments. Sam shuts the laptop, breaks the kiss and murmurs hotly into his lover’s mouth, “A good fuck might jiggle our brains a little into the right direction.” And he winks as Bryan laughs deeply, pulling the smaller man from the chair, laying one hand on his ass and one on the interesting bulge growing behind Sam’s fly, steering him towards the last free bedroom.

++++

“That might be it. Here.” Sam clicks on a link and starts to read out loud, _“On 21 May 1966, the UVF issued a statement: From this day, we declare war against the IRA and its splinter groups. Known IRA men will be executed mercilessly and without hesitation. Less extreme measures will be taken against anyone sheltering or helping them, but if they persist in giving them aid, then more extreme methods will be adopted . . . we solemnly warn the authorities to make no more speeches of appeasement. We are heavily armed Protestants dedicated to this cause.”_ Sam stops and looks up, his eyes flicking from Bryan to Hannibal, still confused.

“What if,” Face starts, rubbing his man’s shin, who reclines on the big sofa, “your parents unknowingly helped one of them…”

“And had to leave the country,” Murdock finishes his sentence.

Bryan and Hannibal share a glance, identical frowns on their foreheads.

++++

_It had been a very awkward moment in the morning as they met for the very first time._

_When Face came out of the bathroom, Hannibal was looking at him, awake, leaning against the pillows in a half sitting position, sipping Face’s coffee carefully, “Spill it kid, what’s going on here.”_

_“Hey, babe, you’re awake.” Face took the plate with the scrambled eggs and sat on the edge of the bed again, attempting to share his breakfast, but not answering Hannibal’s question, asking one of his own, “How are you feeling?” He stroked across his leader’s forehead, hoping it wouldn’t be hot. Miraculously it wasn’t._

_“I’d feel a lot better if I’d know why we’re in Paris and why I hear four people in the apartment and not only Murdock and BA.”_

_“Look, it’s…um…complicated…” Face just didn’t know how to explain the whole mess._

_“Fuck, kid, you lost for words…” Hannibal captured the hand that was lingering on his cheek, “it really seems to be complicated.” He cleared his still sore throat, tried to ignore the throbbing of all the cuts he was feeling on his body. “Spill it anyway.”_

_Face sighed and just when he was about to start Hannibal muttered, “They kept calling me Miller or Mills or something…”_

_“Yeah, that’s right.” Face was relieved that the Colonel was aware of that. So he just said, “They mixed you up with someone else…”_

_Hannibal’s frown deepened and he handed the coffee mug back to Face. His XO greedily drank the rest._

_“Help me with the damn clothes, babe.” Hannibal put back the blanket, “I need to meet that someone. He’s here isn’t he?”_

_Face sighed, shaking his head, “Look, John, I don’t think…”_

_“Nonsense. I will not meet a stranger in bed like an old man.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting unsteadily and not able to suppress a painful, “fuck,” when he saw all the bruises on his thighs. “Bastards.”_

_“We took care of them.”_

_“Face…” Hannibal took his Lieutenant’s head in his hands and made him look up while he knelt in front of him, helping to put the older man’s pants on. “Spill it.”_

_Face licked his lips nervously, then finally started to tell the whole story in short, clipped sentences while helping Hannibal dress. Of course he left out the encounter on the plane._

_Afterwards Hannibal was silent for a few moments, fixing his XO when he put his own clothes on, pulling up his zipper._

_“He looks exactly like me?”_

_“Yeah, except this.” Face combed through Hannibal’s hair with his fingers. “But I bet he’s dyed his.”_

_“Okay, let’s meet me then.” Hannibal groaned while trying to stand too fast. Face laid his arm across his shoulders and took the tall man’s weight. “You promise to go back to bed after that, Boss? You’re not fit for anything here.”_

_“Pr…promise,” Hannibal hissed when he made the first step towards the door, knowing his lover was right. But as stated earlier, meeting a stranger while lying in bed? Never._

_As soon as they were in the hallway BA was at their side, taking some of their leader’s weight. “Good to see you, Hannibal.”_

_“Thanks, Corporal.”_

_“Hey Bossman,” Murdock was waving from the kitchen space, a huge smile of relief spreading across his face, “More coffee coming along.”_

_And then they met. Two pairs of silver blue-grey eyes staring at each other. Hannibal trying to stand more straight, feeling intimidated by the man that was just as tall as him._

_Bryan actually gasped, even though he didn’t want to. Now that the blood was all washed away and he could see the other man in broad daylight, he just couldn’t believe their resemblance._

_“No wonder Face thought I’m you,” Bryan said in a way of greeting, held his hand out and introduced himself. “Bryan Mills.”_

_“John Smith.” Hannibal tried to apply as much strength as possible into the handshake. He really hated to be that weak. “I see you already know my unit,” Hannibal stated._

_Bryan nodded his head._

_“Sam Orser, my partner,” Bryan introduced his dark haired friend and they shook hands too._

_Sam was absolutely lost for words. Knowing people could look alike was one thing, but seeing it for real was something completely different. He forgave Face instantly in hindsight for coming onto them like he did back in the bar in L.A. He would have done the same._

_John Smith looked exactly like the identical twin of his man._

++++

“Maybe your parents were hunted and had to leave the country, and they split you up for your own safety?” Sam clicks back and forth between pages. There was no other explanation for this than the two of them being twins.

“But wouldn’t they have at least told us about that when we were older and able to watch after ourselves?” Bryan shook his head in disbelief. His parents were long dead and he only had a younger sister.

“The question is,” Hannibal says lowly, fighting a terrible headache, “who of us lived with them or were we both given away…were there real parents at all…” despite the pain he can’t take his eyes off the man who looks exactly like him.

It’s a miracle. Especially since they not only look alike but also took a very similar job, and are both gay. He actually feels a big comfort in the fact that he can hold Face’s hand from time to time during their conversation or affectionately rub his lover’s thigh. He simply needs the connection since he’d thought for a few awful days that he’d never see him again.

The fact that both Bryan and Sam wear a thin silver ring on their ring fingers makes him smile. He should have thought of that as well.

“A gen test would be the only proof, though,” Murdock states thoughtfully, using a small cushion as a ball, throwing it into the air and catching it again until BA snatches it from him and hides it behind his back wordlessly, grinning.

“Yeah, but how about we just accept the fact that we’re brothers and try to get to know each other a bit better?” Bryan absent-mindedly lays his arm around Sam’s shoulder, making him shut down the laptop again. “Your unit is very tough, so you seem to be all right…”

Hannibal wonders how the man can draw conclusions like this but is very pleased with the praise for his team, if there wasn’t the stupid pain overtaking his thinking. He feels Face’s concerned glance on him, “I think John needs some more rest and we’ll figure the rest of this out as soon as he’s all right.”

Hannibal smiles at his boy and his protective streak. He takes the younger man’s hand without thinking and kisses it, furiously blushing when he becomes aware that there are strangers in the room. He must either be already feeling comfortable around them or losing his mind.

Face doesn’t pull away just chuckles, sharing a brief glance with Sam who provocatively turns his head slightly, just looking at Bryan and promptly earns a brief kiss on his mouth. Then Bryan blushes, too and everybody bursts out in laughter, feeling a lightness one usually only feels between good friends.

“I guess we don’t need a gen test,” Hannibal groans, still laughing a little but hating the pain that spoils the fun. “Come here,” he whispers, only for his lover to hear. Face leans in close, fixing Hannibal’s eyes with his questioning stare. When his lover nods slightly and parts his lips in invitation, Face licks gently across the dry cuts and then closes the gap between them, pouring all his love into the claiming kiss for everybody in the room to see.

Proof that Hannibal feels very comfortable with the two men he’s just met.

F I N A/N: Big fat thanks to Karen for the research about the IRA!!! It let my writer's block I had in the middle of this disappear!!! *huggsss* 


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